I recall a filthy sidewalk
running in front of grandma's house
with bumps and cracks from the roots
of ancient white oaks…
Meandering down to the levee
with cane poles and sack lunches
crickets and freshly dug earth worms
Barefoot in careless summers...
I recall one low spot
beneath a straggly Chinaberry
filled with pitch-black delta dirt
washed in by summer rains
Shuffling through and digging down
burying our toes...
Often now I recall
when the heavens are shrouded in grief
when darkness closes at the edge of vision
I recall a porch light flicking on in the distance
I recall grandma’s trembling soprano calling
calling me back home….
By: Tim Ryerson